Promise Flower, Wishing Star
by BecauseHeroesNeverDie
Summary: A collection of centric oneshots. -Chapter 9: Goofy- Watching the stars fall, Goofy felt that he had failed somehow.
1. The Star

Orange wishing star laying at my feet.

A lovely, lonely little trinket symbol of my deceit staring up at me.

I close my eyes to make a wish on the nearest wishing star.

But I won't get my wish,  
I don't deserve it,  
even if I hold on to this beautiful wishing star.

Namine clutched the little charm. It's star shape dug into her hand as she hung onto it.

She leaned out the window, staring at the sky. The stars sparkled in her eyes. A star fell, it's tail fanning behind it as it slid across the sky.

Tears trailed across Namine's cheek as she watched the star die.

"You're supposed to make a wish, you know," a voice said. It sounded like he was mocking her.

"Please leave." She cried out, her voice quavering. He walked forward and leaned out the tower's other window, opposite her's. She walked away, leaving the tower.

She entered the only place that was her's. Her drawing room. The walls were covered with her drawings. It hurt her to look at them. Every picture she drew hurt someone.

She sighed. It was better than leaving all that white glaring at her. The irony was enough to make her cry. A room full of light for the heartless little witch. Another tear streaked down her face.

She hadn't made a wish. You were supposed to voice a little piece of your soul when you saw a star fall. Something you wanted more than anything. And when you wanted something enough, it became part of what you are. Part of your heart. It was a wonderous feeling, apparently. Making a wish. For those who HAD a heart, she supposed.

Of course she hadn't made a wish. Wishes came from the heart, which she knew she was lacking. What did she have to wish for, anyway? She'd still have nothing. She WAS nothing, after all. There wasn't anything that could take the place of a lost heart, why didn't anyone here get that? It had to be YOUR heart, not someone else's. It didn't mean anything if it wasn't.

Namine snatched up her sketchbook. This drawing wouldn't hurt anyone.

She drew the sky and the star fading away. The beautiful slivers of light in the dark. She worked hard late into the night.

When she'd deemed her work finished, she held it out at arm's length to get the full effect of it. It was amazing. Her best work yet.

She tacked it up on the wall in the space she'd reserved for her favorite work. It stood out from everything. The star was HER memory, not anybody else's.

It wasn't a childish scribble, it was a beautiful mesh of her pastels and some simple watercolors. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at it.

She'd been wrong. This drawing did hurt, it hurt HER. Not physically, just in the way that it touched her somewhere that wasn't even real, wasn't supposed to be.

It hurt her in a beautiful way. It filled her. A great melancoly feeling. Whole, almost.  
Sorrow, even if it hurt, was an emotion. It was a beautiful sort of thing. And she loved it.


	2. The flower

_**Author's corner: I'm not sure why I chose a flower as the object. I always thought the sea-shell cham looked a bit like a flower, sooo that might be it. **_

_**--No more author's corner--**_

_A small, brightly colored flower_

_rests calmly_

_on the sand._

_The soft, quiet flower _

_glows gently,_

__

illuminating the shadows,

as the waves crash over it, readying to pull it away.

_The lovely, beautiful flower,_

__

stays as a symbol of the promise.

Floating away in the waves, so sadly.

A broken promise washed away.

Kairi stared out at the ocean. She closed her eyes and tried hard not to cry.

She'd been staring at the horizon for so long, nothing felt real anymore. All her memories felt unreal, it felt lik this was all that had ever been. All that ever would be.

She was growing hopeless as the days died one by one. A little more of her hope dying away with each setting of the sun. She thought back to the days when a day's death had meant that a new day would rise, brighter than the last.

She could be lost in memories like that for hours, but spending too much time in memories (especially those she wasn't even sure if they were real or not anymore) was far too painful when she came back to regular consciousnes. It was like drowning, it stung when you came up. She liked drowning, it didn't hurt. The memories didn't hurt, but coming to the surface hurt.  
Coming to the surface and realizing that what was...wasn't anymore...

She decided to tell the people she lived with about that feeling and they'd freaked out. They started to send her to some shrink. And he told them that all this "remembering" had to stop. He told her that everything she saw in the "half-memories" wasn't real or true at all. Everyone was trying to make her "normal". They wanted to make her move on, they wanted to make her forget.

But, she couldn't. She knew it was true, she knew _he_ was real.

_I'll come back to you, I promise._

He'd promised. It would all work out, eventually. I just need a little patience, she told herself.

_I know you will._

She'd said back. She'd believed in him. She _still_ believed in him.  
She couldn't give up on him now. She thought of her old sea shell lucky charm. He still had it. Did he ever pull it out and stare at the sky? Did he ever think of her?

"Just a bit longer." She vowed to the sky.

Kairi cried, still looking at the now blurry line where ocean met sky. She gazed at the land around her. This place was so rich with beauty. It all felt so hollow.

"I promise, I'll wait as long as I can." Kairi whispered, hoping her voice would carry as far as it needed to. "I'll try to remember too."


	3. The marble

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE!!**_

_**I know all of this story is incorrect. They got the orb-things in the game another way...should I make this more accurate..?**_

**_END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_A clear crystal marble_

_shines as sunlight strikes it,_

_held aloft by a pair of uncertain hands._

_The small ornament,_

_glows like yellow fire_

_in the gathering twilight._

_The sun sets slowly,_

_my mind gathering up half-remembered images._

_Who are you?_

_An empty frame,_

_adorns my wall. _

_Were you supposed to be there?_

Olette leaned out the window, staring at the sun setting over the ocean.

_Last day of school. Summer's start._

The school year had ended that day. As the bell signaled the last ear-splitting ring, it would emit for a few months, everyone yelled and cheered. You couldn't even hear the screech of the bell.

So, it was officially summer vacation. Olette always used to see the beginning of summer as the start of a great new adventure. It once seemed filled with all kinds of possibilities. Now it seemed hollow. Something was missing...

Tomarrow was her birthday. She usually loved the way her birthday would sometimes fall on the first day of summer, but, still that same thought nagged at her. Somethings missing...someone's missing?

Olette tugged at the sleeve of her pajama top. Why did these thoughts keep haunting her? The closer summer came, the more it ate at her. She just didn't get it. Nothing was missing. End of story. Period. She tried to dissmis it from her mind but, still the questions returned.

She'd been so distant lately. She didn't talk as much and avoided her best friends, Hayner and Pence. She felt like she was floating away. She thought of far-away places and her mind wondered every few minutes.

Her birthday. Oh, joy. About her whole family and a large amount of friends she barely even knew anymore would be there. Couldn't she just have a quiet day with her closest friends?

She let out a huge breath and closed the window. She went to sleep, ignoring her thoughts as much as she possibly could, until they faded to blank, as sleep fell over her.

Olette rose to the brilliance of the morning sun. She pulled open the window, letting the wind play with her hair, as she leaned out dreamily.

A bright glint caught her eyes. A clear bag lay on the windowsill. It had a glittering object inside it. She reached out and picked it up. Olette cautiously opened the bag and plucked out the small shimmering object it held. A piece of paper gently drifted to the floor, but Olette was so absorbed in examining the object, she neglected to pick the sheet of paper up.

It was a clear marble. She held it up to the sunlight and it glowed a soft yellow. It was smooth, and it shined with each ray of light that it connected with. She remembered having a marble like this one. She'd gotten it from her friend, Sora. She thought she'd lost it!

Olette's eyes drifted to the clock. She had to be ready for the people who were coming! She closed the window, throwing the curtains across and dressed in a hurried manner.

She stuffed the marble in a pocket of her traditional summer pair of pants.

Olette rushed down the stairs and entered a room unrecognisable as her family's living/dining room. It was covered in colored streamers and multi-hued balloons. Wow, her parents really knew how to overdo it. There was a point when a little overkill is reasonable, but this was downright ridiculous.

She sat on the couch and waited for the crowd to arrive. In a few minutes of waiting, people began to enter. Everyone was talking and laughing. This was all too much for Olette.

She ducked under the table over laden with sweets and presents. She sighed in relife, at the muffling of the noises by the thick table cloth and table top.

She stared at one of the legs of the table. There were words etched into the very near top where the leg almost met the flat table surface.

_Roxas + Olette Friends 4 ever_

There was a little heart surrounding the words.

Who was _Roxas?_

A memory superimposed the real world.

**--It was Olette's birthday last year.--**

"Here Olette! Happy birthday!!" A boy wirh spikey blonde hair handed her a present. It was poorly wrapped and lumpy, she could tell he'd done it himself. Carefully, she opened unwrapped it.

She pulled out a tiny stuffed cat. It was black with a little pink nose, bright green eyes, and thin black whiskers.

"Thanks, Roxas!!" She hugged him and snuggled the cat to her face.

"How cute," Seifer said sarcastically, as he came up in front of them. "Don't you think you're a little too old for toys?" He asked mockingly. He snatched the cat from Olette and ran.

"Get back here, you jerk!" Roxas ran after him. Olette followed.

Seifer reached the wall overlooking the ocean. It hung right over the water. He chucked the stuffed animal into the water.

"That...that..." Olette grabbed Roxas' arms to hold him back, as Seifer walked away without another word.

"Sorry, Roxas," Olette burst into tears, running into the festivities. She searched wildly for a place to hide. She ran under the table.

"Olette, are you OK?" Roxas asked, slipping under the table.

"You must think I'm dumb. I didn't fight or anything." Olette cried out.

"No way! That wasn't your fault!" Roxas comforted. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. We'll all be forgotten anyway, eventually. This table might last longer than us." Roxas dissapeared in thought.

Olette went up from under the table and slipped into the kitchen. She grabbed a pair of scissors that were sitting next to a pile of unused streamers. She ducked back under the table and handed them to Roxas.

"Let's be remembered," she smiled.

Roxas began to carve a message into the wood...

But that didn't happen, did it? No. There was_ no_ Roxas. There _never_ was a Roxas.

Something else hit Olette. Th marble. Another memory. She fled from under the table, a wet, salty glimmer saturating her cheeks as she ran.

The party go-ers ignored her, as she dashed up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door behind her. She picked up the paper and turned it over in her hands to see a small note.

Olette, I miss you and Hayner and Pence so much. Do you remember the tournament? The trophie? I guess you wouldn't. It never happened. You're some of the best friends I could ask for. I love you with all my he--err, whatever. I hope you keep this, even if you don't remember me. We're still connected, right? Roxas

Olette read the letter over and over, tears flowing like some busted sink no one bothered to fix. Why was she crying? Did part of her know what this meant?

--later on--

Olette stood on the beach, staring at the vast expanse of crystal blue water. She held up the marble and it glowed in the sunset's light.

A light blue glow appeared on one side of her. She turned to look into the smiling face of a boy with golden brown hair and afternoon-sky blue eyes. He turned his gaze at the water.

"This place has an odd feeling of home to it..." Sora commented. He held his marble higher and it glowed a brilliant blue.

"You look like a ghost," Olette replied. The light seemed to pass right through him.

"It's because I'm not really here," Sora answered back with a sad smile. "I guess I never..."

Olette stared out at the green and blue sea.

"It's a nice place," Sora looked away at the bleeding red and pink sunset. He looked back at her and started to fade further, almost gone. He turned his back away, then turned around again for one last thought.

Roxas smiled at Olette. His light spector stood where Sora had just been a moment before.

Roxas joked, "Tell Seifer he had it easy at the struggle torament. Roxas would have beaten him, hands down."

"Really?" Olette joked back.

"Of course, as sure as you are my best friend. Bye Olette." He disapeared completely.


	4. The King

He toyed with the chess piece, rolling it between his gloved fingers. He stared pensively at nothing in particular. The king. Wise, noble, ready. He sighed.

_Nothing ever turned out right. _

He placed the piece back on the chess board. It stood taller than all the other pieces. It hung on the edge of the board, almost off of it. He slid a finger over the back row: rook, knight, bishop, queen, king, bishop, knight, rook. One of the knights caught his eye. The chess set had been thrown together of miscellaneous pieces from other sets. The differences among the pieces was far more obvious within the white lines. As a result, some pieces were whiter than others. His finger rested momentarily on the knight who was more gray than white.

This was a game of thought and skill. One had to keep focused or their chances for victory could slim in one short turn.

"Are you going to do anything?" An irritated voice broke through his thoughts. A pair of lonely eyes were masked by a false smile. She hadn't snapped. She hadn't said anything. She'd really lost her fire. He hadn't really noticed; caught in a flurry of papers, plans and searching. This was his first chance to come home in a long time. Her annoyance at his distant air was understandable; to be expected.

"Oh...yes..." His finger rested on a pawn, ready to make his move. The game continued from there. His motions were thoughtless, haphazard. He was thinking too much of the game, no, too little. He was trying his hardest to keep the pieces safe. The black pieces advanced. He had to be careful.

"No...." He was surprised that the whiter knight was one of the first to fall. He should have put more thought into Sora's, no, the knight's, position. He hadn't. Such a pity...

Real plans surged through his mind. He was lost. A simple game of chess had drawn his mind back to business. His mind vaguely registered the game. The black forces advanced; the King's companions fell, but he did...nothing. Nothing at all. He just pushed them toward their fates.

"Checkmate." The King was the last to fall.

**_A/N: I can't believe how...vague this is....It's Mickey, lol. No poem this time...Unless I think of one later, but hey, nobody's reading this anyway, right?  
_**


	5. The Mirror

The short pair of walls were lined with mirrors. Clear, sharp portals to an identical world. He fought to keep his gaze from the pair of perfect Rikus that flanked his side as he walked. They walked with quick and smooth gaits. Like his. And, upon further examination, they walked with their fists tightly locked. Contained, but not for much longer.

His eye strayed. Was that what he looked like? He forced his eyes ahead. Though his companions walked each step he did and in the same exact fashion, only his steps echoed in the empty hall. He could see Marluxia walking down this hall, his eyes caught in the mirror world as he watched himself pass by. He regarded the Marluxia in his mind with disgust as his eyes sparked with admiration for the grace and power he believed was in his stride.

Fingers sliding along the narrow wall felt the cold, smooth surface. He turned, facing his reflection. He saw what everyone else saw. A perfect imitation. Blue-green eyes the color of an ocean he'd never swam in. Hair the shade of clouds he'd never watched lazily drift across a summer sky. Skin tinted with sunshine he'd never felt. So alike him in every way. A flawless replica.

Just like him. He watched his double's mouth open in a cry that bounced off the walls. His reflection lashed out at him, but he was faster. He pulled out his sword before his reflection could break his world. He broke the fake world. He smashed and thrashed at the thing he hated most. An imitation. Glass shards of the broken world rained down on him. Colors flashed in the pieces as they fell.

He crushed the pieces under his feet. He watched with disinterest as a scarlet trickle slid down his arm. He regarded the distruction with pride. Laughter replaced the screams and crashes that had formally echoed along the walls. The white floor was littered with crushed glass, small slices of sliver and painted with splotches of red.

He left in triumph. He entered the next room, satisfied.

"What have you done?" A sharp voice cried in outrage.

His strength wavered and he fell. He labored to push himself up and a huge grin lighted his lips.

"Don't fix the mirror."


	6. The Clock

"_We'll never be apart as long as we remember each other."_

Too bad they had all forgotten something important. Broken shards of memories never seem to add up to the truth.

Axel reclined, his back against the cool stone of the clock tower. His legs dangled perilously over the edge. He cradled his head in his arms, the smooth, chill touch of his cloak brushing the back of his neck.

He bent his head further back, gazing up at the clock face. Large inky-black Roman numerals stared back at him. The hands twitched ever so slightly, signifying an insignificant change in time, but Axel wasn't paying attention to the time. He was looking at the numbers etched into the surface of the clock face.

"Funny," he mumbled to himself lazily. For the first time, he noticed that thirteen did not belong.

His gaze flicked over to the horizon. As he watched the sky glow with yellow, orange, rose and purple fire, he felt something akin to a smile spread across his face. He would have called it beautiful, if he'd had a heart that knew what beauty was.

Life wasn't beautiful, that was for sure. No friends. No one to eat ice cream with. Not even the faintest echo of laughter to be heard. Not a soul to talk to.

Friendship was beautiful, he decided. When he'd had a friend, he had something to hope for, something to look forward to. He'd quickly wrapped up work to sit around and chat about nothing in particular. Now, he was all alone with no one to talk to. He had no desire whatsoever for the salty-sweet taste of sea-salt ice cream. He had nothing at all.

Then again, what was more befitting for him than nothing? He had no heart, after all. He was nothing at all. Nobody.

"I guess there isn't anything I can do about it," Axel admitted defeat. It was not as if his loneliness was deep.

The Organization had tried to give him a purpose, even if that purpose was a lie. It was simple, really, but impossible. Get a heart. If only it were that simple. But, Roxas had done it.

He sat up, staring down at the space underneath the tower. Emerald eyes caught the distant figure of the boy who was no longer Roxas. From atop his lofty perch, the boy seemed so small. The world shrunk and blurred together at such a hight.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he pushed himself up and made his way leisurely down the staircase. He passed three children heading up the tower. They laughed, smiling and joking, caught up in a small, simple world that was all their own. The girl, who sported a head of neat, brown hair, handed a light blue bar to the boys she was walking with. They continued to climb up the stairs. Peals of laughter floated down to Axel. He stood stock still until their voices faded into the distance.

"What's so great about you guys?" He challenged them quietly. His strides grew longer, his thin arms swaying at his sides. He could walk these streets with his eyes closed.

It didn't take much time for him to catch up with the boy who was no longer Roxas. He hung back, poking his bird-like countenance around corners to get a good view.

Axel narrowed his eyes, studying _Sora_. Trying to find a connection. Searching for the slightest habit or gesture that remained.

Axel ducked out of sight as _Sora _swung his head in his direction. After waiting a few minutes for good measure, he continued to trail the boy who was no longer Roxas. He didn't want to see that look. The familiar blue eyes that would stare at him blankly, scrunching up with the effort of trying to place him. It was sad, Axel decided, when your best friend didn't recognize you. When you meant nothing at all to your best friend in the whole world. If Axel had a heart, it would be a lonely one. A melancholy one.

The boy who was no longer Roxas had brown spikes that popped out prominently to one side. He walked with a lazy gait, cradling his spiky head with fingers that laced together behind it. One of his companions spoke and he laughed merrily. Axel craned his neck for a better view. He'd never seen someone with such a ...large and radiant smile. Axel's fellows were tight-lipped, the only sign of life they gave off were the plans that almost glimmered in their dull eyes. They couldn't be frivolous. Laughter was frivolous.

Suddenly, _Sora_ stopped. His head tipped upward, toward the sky. He closed his eyes, lost in a dream. _There_, Axel thought. He could almost see Roxas underneath.

A friend was a friend. No matter what form they took.

Life had always been one big show for Axel. He had always stood behind the curtains, his head just barely peeking out to watch the show. Now, he was stepping on stage, playing his part.

He'd decided that, no matter what, he would help the boy who was no longer his best friend. Axel slipped into the shadows. He smiled, just a little, remembering the days when he'd still had a best friend.


	7. The Sea Shell

**_Writer's Woes: I'm almost certain that no one is going to read this. ...It's not any good, anyway, so at least no one's missing out on anything. _**

If she closed her eyes, she could make it all disappear. Xion pressed the sea shell to her ear. The rough sides scraped her ear. Waves crashed against the sandy shore. She drifted off into that lazy blue sky, pretending that she wasn't in those woods, choking back tears that couldn't come. She focused on the sound of the waves, mesmerized by their depths. She could drown in the roar of the waves. Everything was calm and perfect.

She sighed, her fears mollified, if only for a moment. This was how things were supposed to be. She was not supposed to laugh up at sunset-tinged skies with her friends. She was not supposed to wrap her fingers around the rough popsicle stick and nibble at her favorite, salty-sweet treat. She was not supposed to tightly grasp the hands of her friends. She was supposed to let go.

She couldn't let go. It would hurt too much.

Xion didn't have anytime left for dreaming. She pocketed the shell, attempting to pull herself back together and continued walking.

She saw _his_ face looking up at her from a puddle. She lifted her hands up and hid his face in the darkness of her hood.

She had to do this. For _him_. She wanted to be with Axel and Roxas, but she felt so wrong. Nothing was hers. Not even those perfect late afternoons watching the sunset. She was helpless. Everything was falling apart and she had to fix it. But she didn't think she could.

She could never have what she wanted.

She started to run. She ran and ran and ran. All the familiar sights passed by in a blur. Her footfalls clicked on the cobblestone streets noisily. The sound burst violently against her eardrums, but soon it became a gentle rhythm, calling her to dream.

She was pretending again. She fancied that she had spent a little too much time on a mission and she was going to be late to meet Roxas for ice cream. She would make it up to him by buying him some ice cream. She would hand it to him and smile. She would say she was sorry for all the trouble and confusion she'd caused. Everything would be okay.

Except it wouldn't. She had to see Roxas again, though. But she knew if she saw him again, she would have to-- No. She tried to stop that thought from entering her mind. But it had and it was slowly poisoning her thoughts. What she had to do was slowly tearing her apart.

She tried to control herself. She stopped running and slowly stepped into the shop where she always bought sea-salt ice cream.

The bells tied to the door jingled pleasantly as she pulled the door open. She would miss the sound of those lovely bells greeting her. They jingled, greeting her joyfully. She could have drank in the sight of that cramped store one last time, but she didn't care to look around her. She would not take one last painful look around the shop. It would hurt too much to say goodbye. She would pretend that this was not the last time she would open that door.

"Two bars of sea-salt ice cream, please." The words almost caught in her throat, but she managed to say them anyway.

The shopkeeper smiled at her, quickly opening his freezer and pulling out the ice cream. He seemed to be in an excellent mood today.

"Since you and your friends are such good customers," she could hear the smile in his voice. He lowered his voice in mock seriousness,"I'll give you a little discount. Two for one." He held up two fingers and then one. He grinned broadly, laughed heartily and added "I know you'll just be here again tomorrow."

She couldn't take it. She couldn't stop the rain from falling anymore. She just couldn't hold it in. Warm, salty rain for long-lost, melted days of sea-salt ice cream. The rain fell from blue skies that were not her own. Blue eyes that were her doom and destiny intertwined.

"Is everything alright?" He grew serious suddenly, his eyes soft with concern.

She bravely brushed away the tears she was told she couldn't have. She sunk further into the comforting darkness of her hood, hiding the face that had become her fate.

Xion couldn't pretend anymore. Sora needed her. Maybe, she needed him, too.

The shopkeeper watched her carefully, wondering what was the matter. She couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear. Everything was not alright. She could only say what she knew.

"Nothing will be the same tomorrow." Her voice shook slightly, though she tried her hardest to stay strong. After all, it was the only thing she was sure of anymore.


	8. The Candle

Xehanort clung to the shadows, letting the darkness hide him in her depths. She hung about his head, wrapping tight fingers around his shoulders and falling to his feet. He knew of her vast power. How she could swallow men whole or embrace them softly, empowering them with her wisdom and strength.

The brown cloak wrapped around him hid his body from the light. He might need to be stronger for his next move was important. Kingdom Hearts, source of all darkness, was very nearly at his fingertips. He could almost feel the powerful pulse of the heart of all worlds in his hands. If everything fell into place, it would be all his.

A bright flame caught his eye. It glimmered odiously in the darkness, penetrating the cold shadows with its flickering warmth. The fiery flower was held in place by a shinning brass candlestick. The flame ate away at the wick, sending waxen tears down the candle's long, spindly stem.

Xehanort watched the light carefully, his eyes narrowed into hateful slits. Light was greedy. The way it ate away at the candle. The way it consumed the darkness. The light flickered and faltered, but continued to shine.

It was not as strong as it seemed. Left alone it would surely burn itself out. Or the slightest wind could blot it out of existence, sending the darkness rushing in.

The darkness was much more powerful. She could ensnare the light and snuff it out with her chill breath. The light could not destroy her. The light could merely force her into hiding. But she would always come back, more dangerous than ever. Darkness was the ultimate power and the light was far too weak to stop it.

The darkness whispered her secrets into his ears. Secrets of great power. She knew how to conquer the feeble light and how to keep him breathing when his own heart had stopped.

But he needed more darkness, more power. The heart of all worlds was the greatest prize. There he would bring the worlds back to their true nature.

His eyes ached from the light. He leaned closer to the candle. The wind that rushed from his lips plunged the area into darkness. Conquering that small light was a satisfying thing.

A greater light than the one he had vanquished stood below him at the door. A pair of wide staircases spread to the lower level. A boy stood with one hand still lingering on the ponderous door that led to the castle that the darkness now called home. The boy's eyes climbed the staircase and paused where Xehanort stood. Xehanort's eyes flashed with hateful darkness. The boy flinched involuntary and looked away. He had seen that the boy held a light that burned intensely within his heart. The moment his eyes had met those innocent blue globes, he felt the sweet darkness of hatred building within him.

The boy whose heart shone like the sun in the hollow castle stepped inside. The castle's heart had been so empty. It had known nothing but shadows, rusted pipes and broken stones for so long. He could not allow the castle to grow hopeful. It was fated to be a hollow memory for the remainder of its existence.

He would stamp that light out. He would darken that boy's heart and stain his soul. His eyes would not sparkle, his heart would not flutter, his laughter would no longer echo off the walls. Never again. The shadows would feast on that pure heart. The boy would scream and cry and fight, only to be swallowed by the darkness. She would ensnare him. Destroy him. It would be as if that light had never shined.

He was distracted by the tantalizing darkness that he could taste in the air. Some where nearby, the delicious darkness of hatred, rage and envy stirred in a heart that was beginning to open up to the darkness.

Quick amber eyes darted about, seeking the source. He heard another boy gasp. The scent of his fear wafted up the stairs. A satisfied smirk sprung to Xehanort's lips. Easy prey.

The smirk grew and grew into a grin and burst out as a dark chuckle.

The boy's silver hair swished as he fought feebly. Xehanort found it strange how the boy resembled him in his youth. Silvery hair that brushed cheeks and shoulders. Skin colored by long days under the island sun.

He broke away from the light boy. He puffed and panted, trying to draw air into his overworked lungs. Then he glared at the boy with the radiant heart, as if the dark fire of his hatred could consume his light.

Xehanort knew that this could be used to his advantage. He would immerse the weaker boy in darkness. This would give him the power he needed to snatch the heart of all worlds and keep it for himself.

And all it would take was another breath to extinguish that faltering candle and leave his heart in darkness.

**_I've been ignoring this idea forever, so I decided that I would just write it. ...It's not as good as I wanted it to be..._**


	9. The Shield

Goofy wondered if one day all the stars would be gone. He craned his neck until it hurt, staring intently up at the sky. He still couldn't count all the stars, but the sky looked emptier than he had ever seen it. Large black hands curled around tiny clusters of stars. Goofy thought it looked like those stars were hanging on to each other, each trying to shed enough light to save the others. The tiny light of each star held shinning to guide a thousand others, to stop them all from tumbling into the darkness or being blown out by the darkening wind.

A shooting star flew across the sky overhead, curling along the sky's domed ceiling. Goofy watched as star after star began to fling across the sky. One after another after another. It was raining stars.

Years ago he would have leaned back on the hedge, relaxing as much as his armor would permit and watch the way all those sparks of light formed silvery trails against the black sky. He would have whispered to the castle garden, to himself, to no one at all "Gawrsh, isn't that nice?"

It took him a moment to remember that something of the sort had happened long ago. That he stared up at the shooting stars and felt his heart rise as the stars soared across the night. He had closed his eyes all those years ago and wished. He'd wished for stupid things, impossible things. Happiness, peace. Simple things.

There was only one thing he should have wished for.

"Dad, how many stars do you think there are_?" _A voice rose from the dark of his memories. Max. Goofy smiled, never taking his eyes off the sky. If he looked down, he knew that he wouldn't see a soul beside him.

"Gawrsh, I don't reckon any one will ever know, Maxie," he had been surprised when he'd heard Max's voice came out of the hedges. Goofy found himself wondering if Max had been hiding in one of the plant sculptures for his entire shift.

As captain of the knights, Goofy had to spend long nights patrolling the castle or talking over some plan or other with the King. Goofy missed every moment he couldn't spend with his son, but he'd known what becoming a knight would be like from the beginning. His father had been a knight, too. Goofy had spent many of his childhood nights perched on the sill of the highest window in his house, the wide attic window, binoculars digging trails around his eyes, scanning the surrounding streets for his father's return. The streets were empty, so all he had to search for was one tiny star lighting the way. His father's lantern bobbing up and down as he turned corners and cut through alleys.

Goofy closed his eyes tightly and he saw Max crawling out of a bush shaped like a giant pair of mouse ears, and then sitting beside him. He heard the soft crunching grass and loud clanking of armor as he tried to sit down.

"Comm'on Dad, at least make a guess!" Max insisted, starting to count clusters of stars, his pointer finger flying from one star to the next, "One, two, three… that's way too slow! Okay, there's got to be 'bout a thousand over there," he waved his hand to the left, "Or more. Hey, dad, should I count the ones that are falling?"

"They're still there, so they should count," he answered.

"Don't 'cha think that they won't be there for much longer though? Where do they go anyway? What happens to stars once they fall?"

Max's words were swirling around in his head. Goofy opened his eyes again and watched as all those stars poured out, from nowhere at all it seemed, falling, falling and then disappearing back into nothing. His father had told him a long time ago that a knight was a shield made of stone and his job was to protect the people who couldn't protect themselves. Watching the stars fall, Goofy felt that he had failed somehow.

"Gawrsh, I'm so sorry!" He shouted up to the sky, wondering if anyone could hear him. "Sorry for not bein' there to help ya like I shoulda."

He was all alone in the garden, with the hedges that had grown into mysterious shadows that fell right in front of his feet. Moonlight shone on the shield in his hand. He sat, leaning against the hedge, wondering what he could do to stop the stars from falling.

He was much, much smaller than he'd thought. A knight was supposed to protect everyone and he simply wasn't strong enough to save one tiny light.

The King was even smaller than he was, but he'd always known how to keep his people safe. He had a knack for picking up all the pieces and putting them back together. He always had.

Goofy could still remember the time the wooden shield his father had given him had snapped in two when he was training to be a knight. He could only stare at all the splintered pieces of wood spread out before him, the two largest pieces still held in his hands. He'd frozen to the spot, too shocked to move. It was the shield his father had given him one night before he left for a late-night mission, promising to return in a few hours. Goofy had sat on the attic windowsill that whole night, the shape of the wooden frame had carved into his legs, the binoculars had become attached to his face. He desperately searched street after street, without seeing that one tiny, bouncing star he'd loved the most. He never saw that star again after that night. The entire sky was darker after that star disappeared.

He was certain that the shield, too, would be lost forever.

But, somehow, Mickey fixed it, with his quick hands and a bottle of glue, all the while chattering about how Goofy should treat the shield now that it had broken once. Goofy had smiled at him good-naturedly, laughed and was on his way, forever filled with respect for that tiny mouse.

Goofy's shield was cracking again, moaning with the weight of the world. There was only so much it could take, before it fell apart and he was crushed by all the things his shield had protected him from.

The stars were falling, dancing, disappearing and Goofy wished not for a bottle of glue, not for impossible, stupid things, but for the strength to protect all the things that mattered and even the things that didn't.

A knight was a shield made of stone.

Very simply, he wished with all his heart to be made of the best kind of stone there was, the kind that would keep everyone smiling and stop the stars from falling.

_**Writer's woes: Oh man, I so wanted to get something better than this out for a Goofy chapter. I'm disappointed, but it contains all the ideas I'd considered. I guess I'll try to fix it up later.  
**_


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